Supernatural - Season 1
by LightYourTorch
Summary: Pretty much every Supernatural episode written out as a story. The 'episodes' are as exact as possible and everything is included, no scenes are missed out. Hopefully have a new chapter/episode out every 3 weeks. Every season after this will have it's own story but we'll get to that later I suppose. Enjoy.


**Episode One - Pilot**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or their stories, just writing this out for anybody who is interested. Every 'episode' is written to be as exact as possible, nothing is missed out._**

1983\. It started as a normal night in the Winchester household. Mary Winchester carried her oldest son along the hallway, "Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother." she smiled, turning on the light in Sam's room and putting her son down. Dean ran to the cot, leaning over the side and kissing his little brother, "Night, Sam." Mary joined him,

"Goodnight, love." She laid a gentle hand on the baby's head, kissing him goodnight.

"Hey, Dean!" John Winchester stood in the doorway, smiling at his son.

"Daddy!" Dean exclaimed with excitement, running over as his Dad lifted him up,

"Hey, buddy! What do you think? Is Sam ready to toss around a football?" He laughed.

"No, daddy." Dean giggled, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

"No?"

Mary smiled at the two of them, "You got him?" She asked her husband,  
"I got him." He replied as she left the room. John looked over at his youngest son who cooed. "Sweet dreams, Sam," he said before carrying Dean out of the room, switching the light off on his way out. The baby watched his mobile, spinning slowly above his head as it played soft music, the ticking of the clock on the wall accompanying it for a few seconds before stopping. The night light that sat on the wall above a shelf of stuffed animals and toys flickered before going out completely.

Through in her own room, a few hours later, Mary turned on her side in bed as she heard static coming through the baby monitor and saw the red light flashing. She tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes as she turned on her bedside lamp, hearing her baby making noises, "John?" She sighed as she looked across the bed seeing her husband wasn't beside her. He must have been woken up by Sam too. She reluctantly slipped out from underneath the covers and went through to see what was the matter. She walked slowly across the pitch black hallway, seeing a dim coming from inside her son's stood in the doorway, able to make out the figure of a man standing in front of Sam's cot, his back facing her. "John, is he hungry?" She asked. He turned his head slightly, still not fully facing her, "Shh."

"Okay." She sighed, going back across the hallway to their bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The small light that was on the wall above a black and white picture of her and her husband on their wedding day flickered, making her stop momentarily to frown at it. Mary made her way over to it, tapping the light as it continued to flicker. "Hmm." She shrugged it off, hearing indistinct voices coming from downstairs. John must have left the TV on earlier. She slowly made her way to the bottom of the stairs, seeing the television was still on, a war film playing. But something was very, very wrong. She could hear snoring and could see the silhouette of John asleep in his armchair. She held onto the banister for support as she came to the horrible realisation. If her husband was here, asleep, then who was in her son's room? "Oh my god." She gasped, running as fast as she could back up the stairs. "Sammy. Sammy!" She called out, her nightgown slowing her down as she hurried down the hallway and into her baby's room, panicking as she heard nothing. Mary stopped suddenly, screaming as she saw something.

John was awoken by the sound of his wife's screams, jolting upright in his armchair and looking around, startled for a moment before calling out to her. "Mary?" He stood up, running upstairs, following the sound, "Mary!" He ran as fast as he could, "Mary!?" He ended up bursting into Sam's room, "Mary?" He stumbled inside, the screams had stopped. Sam cooed at his dad as he looked around in confusion. John sighed walked over to the cot, noticing his son was awake and forgetting about the screams for a moment, "Hey Sammy." He smiled as he leaned on the side, his son smiling back up at him. "Okay?" He asked, the baby waving his arms happily in reply. John reached into the cot, spotting a dark red stain next to his son's head. As he did so, a drop of the same dark red liquid dropped onto his hand. He frowned at it, confusedly for a few seconds before looking over his shoulder and up at the ceiling in shock. Mary Winchester was on the ceiling, a pained look on her face as she stared down at her husband, her golden blonde hair spread around her head like a halo. She was bleeding from her abdomen, the blood seeping through her nightdress as she struggled to take a breath. Her arms were spread by her sides, her face almost as pale as the white ceiling she was pinned to. Her husband stumbled backwards in horror, falling back onto the floor, unable to take his eyes off his wife, "Mary!" He stared at her. Suddenly, flames burst out from under her body, quickly spreading across the whole ceiling, the only part of the ceiling not covered was where she lay. John's face was lit up in an orange light as she gazed down at him, the same pained expression remaining on her face. Her husband was unable to move from sheer terror as the flames grew bigger and began to smother her whole body. Sam wailed from his crib, the noise and bright light scaring him. This seemed to snap John back to reality as he struggled to his feet, ignoring the intense heat and lifting Sam out of the cot, cuddling him into his chest and running out of the room as the flames spread further. He spotted Dean standing in the hallway in his pajamas, "Daddy!"

He handed the baby over to his big brother, still swaddled in blankets, "Take Sam outside as fast as you can!" He shouted over the noise of the fire, "Don't look back! Now, Dean! Go!" He gave him a gentle nudge in the direction of the stairs as Dean hurried towards them, Sam cuddled close to his chest. John turned back to the nursery, standing in the doorway, "Mary!" He yelled, staring at the damage. The whole room was now on fire, the bookcase, chairs, the crib, everything. He raised his arms, trying to shield himself from the heat as he looked around desperately for his wife, "No!" He could see the faint shape of her body on the roof, completely smothered in the fire.

Dean had managed to escape the house, running as fast as he could while holding his little brother in his arms out onto the grass in front of their house. "It's okay Sammy." He told the baby, looking up at the nursery window where he could see the orange light of the flames coming through the white curtains. Suddenly, he was lifted into his father's arms, "I got you." John told him as he hurried across the grass. The windows exploded, shards of glass flying everywhere and littering the grass as the flames billowed outside into the open air, smoke rising rapidly into the sky.

The Lawrence fire service arrived shortly after, blue and red lights flashing, sirens wailing as the firemen rushed out of their trucks, frantically trying to put out the fire with their hoses. "Stand back sir." One of the many police officers tried to keep onlookers at a safe distance, the fire had caught the attention of many of the locals. John Winchester sat with his sons, cuddling them close to him. Onlookers were gently pushed back by police as they pointed at the fire, afterall, something like this didn't happen everyday in Kansas. Paramedics arrived on-scene and make sure everyone was okay as Dean huddled closer to his Dad who was humming a lullaby to Sam on the hood of their black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, watching their house burn. The flashing red lights lit up their faces, John stared blankly ahead while he still tried to process everything that had happened.

2005\. "Sam, get a move on, would you? We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago." Jessica sighed, fixing her hair in the mirror in the apartment she shared with her boyfriend at Stanford University. She was dressed in a nurse costume, a white dress with a few small red crosses on it that barely covered her thighs and long white socks, pulled up to her knees. A picture of John and Mary Winchester sat underneath in the mirror on a crowded shelf, in a wooden frame. "Sam! Are you coming or what?" She walked across the room to get her hat and red beaded necklace, the finishing touches to her costume.

"Do I have to?" Sam poked his head around the door frame.

"Yes." She smiled, "It'll be fun." He made his way over to her, "And where's your costume?"

He shook his head and laughed, "You know how I feel about Halloween."

The bar they went to was adorned with decorations. Rubber wolf masks hung on the walls, fake cobwebs were draped across the walls and ceilings. Light up pumpkins hung on the walls and flashed with their orange and green lights. Jessica raised her glass, "So here's to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory!" She smiled at him as she made the toast.

"Alright, alright. It's not that big a deal." He mumbled modestly, tapping his glass against hers before drinking.

"He acts all humble but he scored a 174." She proudly told Luis who was also drinking.

"Is that good?"

"Scary good." Luis patted Sam on the back,

"See, there you go. You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want."

Sam looked down at the table, smiling slightly, "Actually, I got an interview here, Monday. If it goes okay, I got a shot at a full ride next year." Luis nodded.

"Hey, it's gonna go great," Jessica reassured him.

"It better." He winked at her.

"Feel good to be the golden boy in your family?" Luis nudged him. Sam shook his head,

"Nah, they don't know."

"No? I would be gloating!" He laughed, "Why not?"

"Because we're not exactly the Brady's." Luis stood up,

"I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?"

"No." Jessica and Sam shook their heads in unison, Luis walking over to the bar anyway as Sam threw a peanut at his back.

"I said no!" He called louder, his friend laughing and ignoring him. Jessica put her hand on Sam's arm,

"Seriously, I'm proud of you and you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday. You're gonna get that full ride. I know it." Sam shook his head, smiling and looking into her dark brown eyes,

"What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn." His girlfriend laughed, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was around two the next morning when the sound of their front door opening and shutting woke Sam up. He was lying in bed next to Jessica when he heard it, not hesitating as he went to discover who had broken in to their flat. He stood silently in the doorway of the kitchen, noticing the window was open. He had watched Jessica close that this morning… Suddenly, a silhouette darted across the room to his left, Sam knew there was only one other room that that one could lead to. He waited behind the glass door as the figure stepped through, grabbing him from behind. The man grunted, spinning Sam around and shoving him through to the living room. He could just make out short blonde hair as the man threw punches at him, finally making one that connected. Sam stepped back in confusion for a second before coming back to his senses and rushing the shorter man, aiming a kick at his torso. His foot was caught in mid-air and he was thrown to the floor, the other man climbing on top of him. "Woah! Easy, tiger." The man grinned, looking down at him. Sam stared up at his older brother, confused and out of breath,

"Dean?" His brother laughed, "Scared the crap out of me."

"That's because you're out of practice." Sam pushed against his brother suddenly, managing to flip him over. "Or not."

Dean laughed, "Get off me."

The two of them stood up.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" His older brother put two hands on his shoulders, smiling, "I was looking for a beer."

"Sam?" Suddenly the light was switched on, Jessica stood in the doorway of the room, staring at the two brothers, looking confused and half asleep.

"Jess, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." She slowly walked towards them, pointing at Dean,  
"Wait. Your brother Dean?" She smiled slightly. Dean motioned to her top,

"I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league." He grinned, stepping closer towards her.

"Just let me put something on." She looked at Sam.

"No, no. No, I wouldn't dream of it… seriously." He admired her looks for a moment before turning away, "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business, but it's eh, nice meeting you." He winked.

"No." Sam walked over and joined his girlfriend, wrapping his arm around her, "No, whatever you wanna say, you can say in front of her."

His older brother shrugged, "Okay. Um… Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So? He's working overtime on a Miller time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean nodded, smirking, before rephrasing his sentence, "Dad's on a _hunting_ trip and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam stared at his brother, "Jess, excuse us." He said, without looking at her.

The two brothers walked down the stairs, side by side, "I mean, you can't just break in, in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's _missing_. I need you to help me find him."

Sam sighed

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean turned to face his younger brother as the got to the bottom of the stairs,

"Not for this long. Are you gonna come with me, or not?"  
"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"I swore I was done hunting. For good." Dean scoffed,

"I mean c'mon, it wasn't easy but it wasn't that bad." He began walking towards the front door, Sam following behind him "Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me .45!"

His older brother stopped at the door, turning to face him. "Yeah? What was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old. He was supposed to say, 'don't be afraid of the dark'"

"'Don't be afraid of the dark' are you kidding me?! Of course, you should be afraid of the dark, you know what's out there!" Dean exclaimed defensively.

"Yeah, 'I know' but still, the way we grew up after Mom was killed and Dad's obsession to find to find the thing that killed her but we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we _can_ find." The small slits of light coming through the doorway lit up Dean's face as he looked at his brother, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Save a lot of people doing it too."

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?"

Dean roughly shoved the metal door open, walking out into the dark of the night. Sam followed him, still continuing, "The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets?" They walked up the stairs into the car park, "Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?" He stopped by the car, his Dad's 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

"No, not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away."

"I was just going to college, it was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already, I can feel it." They stood there, opposite one another in silence for a moment. "I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can." Dean looked away, "Yeah. Well, I don't want to."

Sam sighed,"What was he hunting?"

Dean opened the boot of the car, various weapons sat in the cases that lined the sides of the boot, as the brothers peered inside. "Alright. Let's see… Where the hell did I put that thing?" Dean began sifting through the boot.

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?"

"I was working my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans." Sam looked surprised,

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean gave him a look,

"I'm 26, dude." He turned back to the boot, pulling a sheet of paper from a folder, "Alright, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," He handed Sam a photo of a man taken from a newspaper, "They found his car, but he'd vanished, completely MIA."

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." He sifted through newspapers, "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years. All men. All same five-mile stretch of road." He took the photo back and put the papers back into the folder. "Started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough," he picked up his phone, "then I get this voice-mail yesterday." He pressed play on the phone, a faint recording of John's voice beginning to play.

"Dean, something's starting to happen. I think it's serious. I need to try figure out what's going on." They heard indistinct noises coming through the phone before John began talking again, "Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger." Sam looked up at his brother,

"You know there's EVP on that?" Dean smirked

"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" His little brother rolled his eyes as Dean continued, "Alright, I slowed the message down, I ran it through Gold Wave, took out the hiss and this is what I got." He pressed a few buttons before playing another recording, this time a woman.

"I can never go home." The voice whispered. Sam frowned, repeating the sentence,

"Never go home…" They both stepped back as Dean closed the boot before sitting on it.

"You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looked away and sighed, "Alright, I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I've got to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." He began walking back inside,

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked.

"I have an interview."  
"What? A job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?"

"So we got a deal or not?"

Sam was packing his knife into his bag when Jessica walked into his room, "Wait, you're taking off?" He looked up. "This about your Dad? Is he alright?" Sam smiled reassuringly,

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama." His girlfriend walked over and sat on his bed as he continued packing,

"But your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip."

"Aw, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin and he's probably got Jim, Jack and Jose along with him. We're just gonna go bring him back."

"What about the interview?" He stuffed a pile of clothes into his bag,

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." He picked up his bag and walked towards the door.

"Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

"Hey, everything's gonna be okay. I promise." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before walking out.

"At least tell me where you're going!" She called after him.

A silver car drove down the empty road in Jericho, the paintwork glinting in the moonlight. One of the windows was rolled down as the driver talked on his phone, "Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I got work in the morning, that's why." He laughed, "Okay, I miss it, my Dad's gonna have my ass." He frowned as his call was interrupted by static, noticing a pale woman standing on the edge of the road, long black hair covering her face. She almost seemed to flicker as she held the edges of her long white dress, spinning slowly in a dazed circle in between the trees. He slowed the car down, "Hey, uh, Amy, let me call you back." He put his phone on the dashboard, bringing his car to a stop right next to her. She stood still as he pulled up, not taking her eyes off him. He leaned over the passenger seat, peering through the rolled down window, "Car trouble or something?" She looked at him for a few moments, her dark hair and white dress waving in the wind. That was the first thing he noticed - how beautiful she was.

"Take me home." A faint smile played on her lips. Without hesitation he pushed the passenger door open, "Sure, get in." As she got in his car he noticed she was barefoot and parts of her dress were torn. "So, you're coming from a Halloween party or something?" He tried to distract himself from the parts of her dress that were revealing slightly more, looking out the window and laughing, "You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here." She slowly turned her head towards him, one hand on her knee, slowly pulling the hem of her dress further up her thigh.

"I'm with you." He turned his head away again, smiling awkwardly, only for her to turn him back to face her.

"Uh…"

"Will you come home with me?" She whispered faintly.

"Um… Hell yeah." He grinned, the tires of the car screeching as they drove off down the dark, unlit, empty road.

Eventually they pulled up at an abandoned, ramshackled house. The roof and walls were falling apart, empty frames sat where windows once were. "Come on. You don't live here." The woman looked up at the house out the car window sadly,

"I can never go home." He leaned over the steering wheel, trying to get a better view of the top of the run-down building, "What? What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where _do_ you live?" He looked across at the passenger seat, only to see it empty. She had disappeared. He looked behind him, checking the backseat before getting out. He chuckled awkwardly, "Okay, that's good. Joke's over, okay?" He looked around, not noticing the steamy handprint quickly fading from his front windscreen. "You want me to leave?" The headlights of his car were the only object providing any light. He took a deep breath, trying not to get freaked out by the eeriness of the situation he found himself in. He slowly walked towards the porch on the house, calling out as he reached the empty doorframe. "Hello?" He could make out an old red chair inside, covered in layers of dust. Suddenly, a bat flew down from the rafters, causing him to scream and fall backwards, getting back up as quickly as he could and sprinting towards his car. He drove away as fast as his car would go, looking behind him anxiously as the house faded into the horizon. He didn't care where she had gone, all he could think about was getting out of there. He panted heavily, checking his rearview mirror and screaming when he saw two dark eyes staring back. The woman with the dark hair in the white dress sat in the back of his car, looking right at him. His car drove right through the warning barriers set up around the entrance of the bridge, driving for a further couple of metres before coming to a stop. He screamed in pain for a few moments, the car vibrating violently before the windows were covered in deep red spurts of blood and the air was filled with silence.

The black impala was parked outside a dusty gas station, standing out clearly from its surroundings. The two brothers were the only customers there, Sam sat in the car while Dean had gone inside to pay. He finally came back out to the car, a cigar hanging out his mouth, carrying a bottle of juice and a bag of crisps. "Hey." Sam looked out of the window at his voice, "Do you want breakfast?" He shook his head, pulling a face

"No, thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

Dean took the pump out of the back of the car, "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply,it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" He swung his legs back into the car, closing the door as Dean walked round the other side of the car and slid in,

"Uh, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Sam nodded, smiling as he rummaged through a box of cassettes,

"I swear man, you got to update your cassette-tape collection."

"Why?"

"For one, they're cassette-tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"House rules, Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean turned on the radio, switching it to one of his tapes and nodding his head along to the sound of heavy drums and electric guitars. Sam sighed,

"You know, Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam." Dean smirked, gesturing to his ear, one hand on the wheel,

"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." He pulled the car out of the station, leaving dust in their trail as they made their way down the road.

Just as they passed the sign for Jericho, Sam sighed as he hung up the phone, "Alright, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue so that's something, I guess. Dean nodded slightly, leaning forward suddenly as he noticed four police cars parked around the entrance to a bridge, just off the main road. "Hey, check it out." He parked on the side of the road, noticing one of the officers talking on his radio. He turned the key, switching the engine off as he eyed the scene before leaning over Sam and opening the glove box. He pulled out a wooden box, full of fake FBI cards. "Let's go." He grinned at a bewildered Sam as he got out of the car. A deputy on the bridge leaned over the edge, calling to his colleagues on the beach next to the water,

"Did you guys find anything?"

"No! Nothing!" They yelled back. He turned around, crouching down and looking into the car where his fellow deputy had finished examining the inside of the car.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints… Spotless. It's almost too clean." They continued talking as the brothers walked over,

"So, this kid, Troy, he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah."  
"How's Amy doing?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown." Dean strolled right up to one of the deputies, interrupting their conversation.

"You fella's had another like this last month, didn't you?" The man looked at him, raising his hat off his eyes slightly,

"And who are you?"

"Federal marshals." Dean lied smoothly, flashing a badge at the officer. The man frowned,

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" He stepped closer to Dean who just chuckled,

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." He began walking around to the other side of the car, "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"That's right, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that." Sam glanced at the car. "So, this victim… You knew him?"

The deputy nodded. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean was standing at the front of the car, slowly inspecting the driver's side., "Any other connections between the victim's besides that they're all men?"

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So, what's the theory?" Sam walked round to join his brother.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder, kidnapping ring."

"This is exactly the kind of crap police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean grinned before he received a sharp nudge from Sam who took over. ,

"Thank you for your time, gentlemen." He nodded, walking away as his older brother reluctantly followed. He shook his head as he walked away, Dean quickly catching up to him and slapping him on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for!?"

"Why'd _you_ step on my foot?"

"Why'd _you_ have to talk like that?"

Dean stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks, "Come on, they don't _really_ know what's going on. We're all alone on this. If we're gonna find Dad we've gotta get to the bottom of this thing by ourselves." He noticed Sam looking at something over his shoulder, turning around to see a sheriff standing next to two tall men looking very official and dressed in shades and black suits.

"Can I help you boys?"

Dean didn't seem fazed as he replied, "No, sir. We were just leaving. Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He nodded as the two agents walked past him and onto the bridge. As the two brothers walked back towards their car the sheriff turned to watch them, one hand on his belt, his eyes obscured by his shades.

In town, Sam and Dean walked under a huge sign announcing a town meeting and telling everyone to stay safe. The gates of the theatre were covered in missing posters, a girl with deep orange hair dressed in jeans and a brown jacket stood, putting up even more. "I'll bet you that's her." He murmured to Sam as they went up to her. "You must be Amy." He greeted her as she stuck up another poster.

"Yeah."

"Troy told us about you. We're his uncles, I'm Dean, this is Sammy."

"He never mentioned you to me." She turned away, taking another poster with her boyfriend's face on it from her bag.

"Well, that's Troy I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him too." Sam took over, stepping in front of he so she was finally forced to look at the two of them. "And we're kind of asking around." Another girl walked over, dress ina goth-style outfit, gently putting her hand on Amy's arm

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah." She replied.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam interrupted.

Around ten minutes later they sat in an empty cafe, Amy telling the brothers about her phone call with her boyfriend on the night he disappeared. "I was on the phone with Troy, he was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"No, nothing I can remember." She looked for reassurance from her friend Rachel, who sat beside her, giving her a small smile in return.

"Here's the deal, ladies." Dean leaned forward, "The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So, if you've heard anything…" The two girls looked at eachother. "What is it?"

Rachel spoke up, "Well, it's just… I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

Sam and Dean answered in unison, "What do they talk about?"

Rachel sat up properly, "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl… She got murdered out on Centennial… like decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up… well, they disappear forever." Sam turned to look at his brother who looked straight back at him, an interested look on his face.

At the library Dean was searching through the Jericho archives on a laptop. He typed into the search bar, 'Female Murder Hitchhiking' and clicked the 'Go' button. He bit his lip in confusion as the screen finally loaded, showing zero results. He deleted the word 'Hitchhiker' before replacing it with 'Centennial Highway' and trying his search again. Sam sat beside him, speaking up as the page reloaded, again showing zero results. "Let me try." He reached over, only to have his arm slapped away by his brother,

"I got it." Sam shoved him over a seat, "Dude!" Dean protested as Sam began typing. "You're such a control freak." He grumbled.

Sam chose to ignore him, "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then maybe it's not murder." He deleted the word 'Murder' from the searchbar, replacing it with 'Suicide' and pressing 'Go' again. One result came up, reading 'Suicide on Centennial'. Sam nodded slowly, reading it, "This was 1981. 'Constance Welch, twenty four years old. Jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.'"

"Does it say why she did it?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Sam scrolled down further, "An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back they aren't breathing. Both died." He read out a quote, "'Our babies were gone, and Constance couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch."

Dean squinted at the screen, examining the black and white photo from the article, "That bridge look familiar to you?"

It was night when they returned to the now empty bridge, the dark, murky water flowing quietly beneath them. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean leaned over the edge slightly, looking down at the water below.

"So you think the dad would have been here?" Sam glanced at him.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." He walked away from the side, Sam following him,

"Okay, so what now?"

"Now we keep digging 'til we find him. It might take a while." His brother stopped behind him,

"Dean… I told you, I've gotta get back by…"

"Monday." He turned, "Right. The interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?" Sam could tell from the one side of Dean's face that was lit by the dim streetlights that he wasn't happy about his choices.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam began walking towards his brother "No, and she's not ever going to know." Dean nodded slowly, "Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to who you really are." Dean turned and walked away, Sam following him,

"And who's that?"

"One of us.""No! I'm not like you!" Sam protested, walking quicker so he was in front of his brother, forcing him to stop walking away, "This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility."

"To Dad? And his crusade?" He scoffed, "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her… Mom's gone, and she isn't coming back." Dean grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and roughly shoved him up against one of the bridge's support beams, glaring at his brother for a few moments before speaking.

"Don't talk about her like that." He murmured darkly before letting go of Sam and stepping back. He slowly turned to walk away, stopping suddenly as he spotted something. A woman stood on the edge of the bridge's railing, wearing a torn white dress, her long dark hair waving in the wind. "Sam." He said quietly, his brother noticing what he was staring so intensely at and joining him where he stood. Constance turned her head to the side slightly to look at them, her face hidden in the shadows. The brothers watched in silence as she looked away again, stepping off the bridge without hesitation. They snapped out of their trance-like state, sprinting to the side of the bridge were she had fallen from. "Where'd she go?" Dean panted.

"I don't know." Suddenly they heard the Impala's engine starting behind them, the headlights turning on and illuminating the bridge.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam squinted in the bright light. Dean stared at his car, slowly taking the keys from his pocket. Suddenly, the car's tires screeched as the black Impala raced towards them, ripping through the police tape at a high speed. "Come on, Dean. Let's go! Go!" The two of them turned, running to the other side of the bridge as fast as they could, the car's engine revving as it raced after them. As the car closed in on them, they realised what they had to do, both brother's leaping over the railings of the bridge. As soon as they had dived over the edge, the car came to a sudden stop, the engine switching off but headlights remaining on.

Sam grunted as he hung on to the side of the bridge, struggling for a few moments before he was able to pull himself back up onto it. He hung onto the railing as he stood up, breathing heavily as he called out down below to his brother, "Dean!" He stared down at the dark water, hearing and seeing nothing. Suddenly he saw his brother dragging himself onto the banks, "Hey, are you alright?" Dean lay on the stony beach, his face, hair and clothes covered in mud and drenched from the water.

"I'm super." He groaned, giving his brother the okay sign with his hand. Sam laughed, climbing back over the side of the bridge to the road.

"Car alright?" Sam asked a muddy (he hoped it was mud anyways) Dean as he closed the boot of his beloved Impala.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now. That Constance chick… What a bitch!" He made sure to shout as he reached the end of his sentence.

"Well, she didn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Dean sighed as he sat on the edge of the car, Sam joining him, "So where does the trail go from here, genius?" Dean shrugged, as his younger brother sighed. Sam frowned as he sniffed, " You smell like a toilet." Dean looked down at his jacket and shirt, looking slightly disgusted.

At a motel on the edge of town, Dean tossed a credit card onto the desk, "One room please." He said, still covered in mud. The old man behind the desk picked up the card, staring at it and then at the brothers.

"You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked as Dean frowned. The old man squinted at the name again,

""That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month." Dean turned to Sam, looking slightly surprised.

Sam knelt down as he picked the lock to the door of room number 10. Dean stood behind him with his back to his brother, keeping watch. He stood up as the door unlocked, gently pushing it open. He stepped inside, grabbing Dean by the collar of his muddy jacket and pulling him with him. They closed the door behind them as they looked around their Dad's previous room. Lined paper with notes scribbled on it was pinned to the walls, pieces of coloured string connected certain bed was unmade, the duvet half on the bed and half on the floor. Dean stepped forward, turning a lamp on and finding a half eaten hamburger still sitting in its wrapper on the table next to it. He picked it up, sniffing it, "Urgh." He set it back down on the table, "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Sam was crouched next to a line of salt, watching as it sifted through his fingers,

"Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried." He stood up, "he was trying to keep something from coming in." Dean stood by the wall of papers, reading from some of them. Sam walked over to join him, "What you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims." They both stared at the posters of missing men, two black and white pictures were connected by a scribbled note. Their names read as Scott Nifong and William Durre. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities." Sam left his brother's side, walking across the room to the opposite wall,a picture of two monks being burned at the stake by another man catching his attention."There's always a connection, right?" Dean continued. "What do these guys have in common?" Sam found a note stating 'The Woman in White', switching on the lamp beneath it to show various images of pale, ghostly looking women. He scoffed,

"Dad figured it out."

"What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

"You sly dogs…" Dean gazed at the wall of missing men's pictures. "Alright so, if we're dealing with this woman Dad would've found the corpse, destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness."

Dean walked over to join Sam, "No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

"You see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up." He began walking away.

"Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry." He turned back to face his younger brother, holding up his hand to stop him continuing,

"No chick-flick moments."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Alright… chick."

"Bitch." Dean turned and walked to the bathroom, leaving Sam in the room. He walked over to the stand, noticing a picture of him, his brother and their Dad. They were all wearing similar clothing; flannels, hunting jackets and jeans. John was sitting on the bonnet of their car, Sam on his knee and Dean beside him. He smiled at it, vaguely remembering the moment.

Sam sat on the bed, listening to Amy's voice on tape, "Hey, it's me. It's about 10:20…" Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened and Dean emerged, looking much cleaner than before.

"Hey man, I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a lil' something to eat at that diner down the street." He slung his leather jacket over his shoulders. "You want anything?"

"No."

"Aframian's buying."  
"Uh-huh." He was only half listening, the tape recorder still held up against his ear. Dean walked out of the room, crossing the parking lot to go to his car as he noticed a police car parked a few metres away, the two deputies from the bridge asking the man from behind the desk questions. As Dean watched them the old man turned and pointed straight at him, the two deputies taking a sudden interest in him. He turned his back to them, quickly pulling out his phone and rapidly dialing his brother's number.

Sam was still sitting on the bed, listening to the recording of Amy, "... so come home soon, okay? I love you." He noticed his phone vibrating on the bed beside him, seeing Dean was calling and picked it up.

"What?"

"Dude, 5-0. Take off." Dean spoke urgently, hearing the two officer's footsteps behind him. Sam stood up,

"What about you?"

"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad." His brother hung up, turning to face the officers with a smile on his face.

"Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" They stopped right in front of him, one of them folding his arms and smiling back.

"Parter? What? What partner?" The deputy sighed, gesturing for his partner to go and search the rooms. Dean stared after him uneasily. Sam stood by the window, quickly drawing the curtain as he spotted the man approaching.

"So, fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" Deputy Jaffe asked Dean.

"My boots." He replied, grinning. Dean was shoved roughly onto the bonnet of the police car as his hands were cuffed behind his back, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law." He gritted his teeth, holding back the urge to talk back to him.

"So, you want to give us your real name?" The sheriff asked as he carried a cardboard box full of files into the room where Dean sat.

"I told you, it's Nugent, Ted Nugent." The man set the box down on the opposite edge of the table, looking at Dean.

"I'm not sure you realise just how much trouble you're in here." Dean stared back at him,  
"We talking, like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or squeal like a pig trouble?" He grinned. Sheriff Pierce's expression didn't change as he kept talking, "You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect." Dean leaned forward,

"That makes sense, because when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." He began flicking through the files. "So tell me… Dean." He took an old tattered notebook from the box and threw it onto the table, "Is this his?" Dean stared at it silently, doing his best to keep a straight face. Pierce walked over to Dean and sat on the table, opening the first page of the book. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out, I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." He flipped to near the end of the book, "but I found this too." Dean leaned closer, looking at the page he was pointing to. A circle had been drawn onto a blank page of lined paper, inside it his name and the number '35-111'. "Now… you're staying right here until you tell me exactly what the hell that means." He glared at Dean who put on his best innocent face and looked up at him questioningly.

The older man opened the door, tufts of grey hair poking out from under the grubby hat he was wearing. Sam smiled when he saw him, "Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah." The man nodded gruffly.

"Yeah, he's older, but that's him." Joseph held in his hands the picture of John that Sam had found in the motel room. He handed it back to Sam as they slowly walked through his back garden. "He came back three-four days ago. He said he was a reporter."

"That's right." Sam nodded, "we're working on a story together."

"Well, I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on." Joseph gave him a funny look, shaking his head. "The questions he asked me…"

"About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?"

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" The older man sighed. ]"It's fact checking, if you don't mind."

"In a plot, by my old place over in Breckenridge."

"Why did you move?" Joseph adjusted his blue shirt over the dirty white vest he was wearing,

"I'm not gonna live in the house my children died in." He sniffed.

Sam frowned, "Mr Welch, did you ever marry again?"

"No way," He shook his head, "Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I'd ever known."

"So, you had a happy marriage?"

He waited a moment before answering, "Definitely." Sam had noticed his pause.

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time." He nodded and walked away, Joseph staring after him, watching him leave before going back to his house. Sam took out the keys for the Impala from his pocket, hesitating before calling after him. "Mr Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?"

"A what?" He frowned.

"A woman in white… or sometimes a weeping woman? It's a ghost story." He smiled slightly, "Well, it's more of a phenomenon really. Um, they're spirits…" He began walking back towards the confused man, "...they've been sighted for hundreds of years… dozens of places in Hawaii, in Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand? But all share the same story." Joseph shook his head in confusion,

"Wh...What? I don't care much for nonsense." He turned and kept walking back to his house, Sam continuing to follow him.

"See, when they were alive… their husbands were unfaithful for them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realised what they had done, they took their own lives. So, now their spirits are cursed… walking backroads, waterways. And, if they find an unfaithful man they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

Joseph breathed heavily, "You think…" His lower lip trembled, "You think that has something to do with… Constance? You smartass!"

"You tell me."

Joseph spoke with a shaky voice, trying to hold back tears, "I mean, maybe… maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did… Constance never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here… and you don't come back." He turned away from Sam slowly, his eyes full of emotion. Sam sighed heavily.

"I don't know, how many times I gotta tell you? It's my high school locker combo." Dean gestured at the number written in the notebook.

"We gonna do this all night?" The sheriff asked. The door opened behind them, another officer standing in the doorway,

"We just got a 911. Shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

The sheriff turned to Dean, sighing, "You have to go to the bathroom?"

"No?"

"Good." He handcuffed one of Dean's wrists to the table. He lifted his wrist, jangling the chain slightly, watching as the door was closed on him before turning back to the book. He used his other hand to pull a paperclip from the pages, smiling as he looked at it.

"Let's go!" One of the officers called as he put on his hat, Dean seeing the last of the lights in the room go out. He had his back to the wall, ducking out of sight as they left.

The Impala sped along the dark roads, it's headlights the only thing illuminating the road ahead.

Sam reached into his pocket as he heard his phone ringing, answering the call.

Dean's voice came through, "Fake 911 phone call, Sammy! I don't know that's pretty illegal." He smiled in the shadows of the phonebox where he stood.

"You're welcome."

"Listen, we got to talk."  
"Tell me about it, so the husband _was_ unfaithful… so we _are_ dealing with a woman in white. She's buried behind her old house, that must have been Dad's next stop-"

"Sammy, will you shut up for a second?" Dean interrupted. Sam kept talking anyway,

"I just can't figure out yet why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well that's what I'm tryna tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."  
"What? How do you know?"  
"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well he did this time."

"What does it say?"

"Eh, same old ex-marine crap when he wants us to know where he's going."  
"Coordinates? Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam suddenly jumped as he looked up, spotting the woman in white standing in the middle of the road. The tires screeched as he tried to brake before her, failing. She disappeared as the car drove right through her, managing to stop a few metres later.

"Sam! Sam!?" Dean yelled worriedly. Sam sat with both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, breathing heavily in shock.

"Take me home." He jumped as he heard a woman's voice from the backseat of the car, seeing Constance sitting there. "Take me home." She repeated in a more demanding tone. Sam stared at her through the wing mirror,

"No." She stared back, Sam suddenly hearing the locks on the car doors and windows all locking by themselves, seemingly. He frantically pulled at the lock, realising it wasn't going to open he tried the passenger door, to no success. The engine was switched on and the acceleration pedal pushed down as the car roared back to life, suddenly rolling forwards and picking up speed quickly. He stared for a second as the wheel before trying to force the door open again as the car drove round a bend. Constance flickered slightly in the backseat, tilting her head to look at the house they had pulled up to. Her old house, where she had murdered both her children. The car came to a sharp halt right in front of the porch, headlights turning off. "Don't do this." Same pleaded, looking slightly more desperate as he glanced at her in the mirror. She flickered again, looking upset.

"I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home." He turned to face her, only to find that she was no longer in the back seat. He turned back just in time to see her lunge across to him from the passenger seat. She shoved him back against the seat, he groaned in pain.

"Hold me." She murmured, leaning over him with her hands on his chest. "I'm so cold." She leaned in closer.

"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been." He groaned again.

"You will be." She pulled him closer to her, whispering in his ear before pulling him close for a kiss. She kept kissing him, he reached from underneath her to grab the car keys, his fingers grasping desperately. Suddenly she pulled away, her face distorting for a second before she disappeared completely. A sudden look of relief flashed across his face before it was replaced with screams of agony. He struggled to unzip his hoodie, looking down at his shirt and seeing her hand burning through the navy material covering his chest. Her pale hand dug deeper into his flesh as the flickering woman moved in and out of focus. Now he could only make out her face, her features were completely disfigured and her skin looked more ashy. Her teeth were bared and her image grew more distorted the more dug into him. Suddenly, the car window was smashed, Sam heard gunshots and Constance disappeared as Dean fired a well-aimed shot right into her head. He heaved a sigh of relief, only for her to appear again, looking more demonic than ever. She glanced at Dean before returning her attention to his younger brother. He shot her a further three times, Sam taking the chance to force himself to sit up and turning the engine on. "I'm takin' you home." He stared determinedly at the house, revving the engine before ploughing the car into the house.

"Sam!" Dean yelled in horror, half of him concerned for his brother, the other half for his car. Sam continued to accelerate through the dusty living room until he hit a cabinet at the other end of the room, various pieces of smashed furniture covering the car and the floor. Dean approached cautiously, his gun still drawn. "Sam!?" He called as he rushed in, ducking to avoid a swinging beam from the ceiling. Sam grunted from inside the car. "You okay?" Dean asked anxiously, leaning through the window.

"I think." Sam groaned as Dean wrenched the passenger door open.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah, help me." Dean reached over, grabbing Sam's arm and beginning to pull him out.

Nearby, the barefoot woman in white slowly bent down to pick up an old framed picture of her with her two children. Constance stared at it with a great sadness in her eyes.

"There you go." Dean had finally managed to pull Sam from the car, both of them looking up, startled to see Constance standing right in front of them, still gazing at her deceased children's portrait. She looked up at them where they stood, leaning against the car, not ready for another confrontation. She threw the photo to the ground, stepping to the side as a once-white chest of drawers pinned them against the car. The two of them groaned, trying to push the drawers off them. The woman teleported closer, keeping her gaze locked on them. A lamp hanging on the wall suddenly lit up, the light flickering for a second before turning on properly, the other lamps around the room that had managed to stay hanging on the wall copying it. Constance looked confused for a second before looking over her shoulder at the sound of water. Water was steadily dripping down the muddy coloured stairs, sounding almost calming. She tilted her head slightly, a look of shock and surprise crossing her face as the dim moonlight from upstairs highlighted two silhouettes. It was her son and daughter, standing side by side as they stood at the very top of the stairs. Sam and Dean watched the scene in confusion as Constance slowly walked towards the stairs, her attention now drawn to her children. She looked up at them for a few moments before they suddenly held hands. "You've come home to us, Mommy." They whispered in unison, sounding eerie as the dripping water accompanied their voices. The teleported down the stairs to stand next to her, gazing up at their mother. Sam and Dean followed their movement, Constance looking more and more distressed. They stepped forward and the children's bodies seemed to meld with hers for a second, before she flashed and started screaming. Black smoke poured out from her figure as her skin flickered and they could see parts of her skeleton. She fell to her knees on the carpet, her body shaking violently as the screaming continued and the whole room was engulfed in flashing blue and white lights momentarily as the last of her remains melted into a dark circle on the gnarled wooden floorboards. The brothers looked at each other before giving a final shove against the wardrobe together and managing to shove it to the ground. They walked over to the dark puddle of black liquid on the floor curiously, the only thing looking back was the reflection of the moon in the night sky.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean noted, as Sam nodded.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face 'em."

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." He patted his brother on the chest who groaned out loudly in pain, turning his groan into a laugh, still tender from where the ghostly woman had plunged her hand into his chest. "I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey!" Dean pointed at him, "Saved your ass. I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up my car… I'll kill you." Sam grinned, Dean not returning the look as he continued to inspect his car.

About half an hour later the Impala drove down the highway, only one headlight working. John Winchester's notebook sat in Sam's lap as he pointed at a map he had been examining, "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming. How far?"

"About 600 miles." Sam sighed, moving his torch across the map.

"With enough gas, we can make it by mornin'." Sam hesitated for a second,

"D...Dean, um... " Dean glanced at his brother,  
"You're not going, huh?"  
"The interview's in ten hours. I gotta be there." Dean turned his attention back to the road, "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home." Sam turned off his torch, tucking the map back into the notebook as they continued their drive in silence.

They pulled up at Sam and Jessica's apartment block, Sam getting out as soon as Dean had stopped the car and cut the engine. He closed the door behind him, bending down to look at his brother through the open window. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, alright." Sam gave his brother one last smile before turning to the building and walking towards it. "Sam!" Dean called after him, causing his brother to look back. "Y'know, we made one hell of a team back there." Sam nodded,

"Yeah." Dean grinned and turned the engine back on, driving off. His little brother sighed as he watched him go, not knowing when he would next see him again. Their apartment was dark as he unlocked the door and entered. "Jess!" He called out to his girlfriend, "You home?" He chewed on a biscuit he had found in his bag, smiling as he heard water running. He sat down on the bed, sighing contentedly before lying down and resting his hands behind his head. He flinched as a drop of dark red liquid landed on his forehead, shortly followed by another. He slowly opened his eyes, gasping in horror as he stared up at his girlfriend who was lying on the ceiling. She was in the same position his mom had been in all those years ago. She was dressed in a similar white nightgown, blood spreading from her abdomen. He propped himself up onto his elbows, yelling out in protest as she burst into flames suddenly. "No!" A pained look was seared onto her face as she looked down at her boyfriend, flames slowly engulfing her body. Suddenly the front door was kicked down, Dean rushing his way inside,

"Sam!" He yelled, running through the apartment.

"Jess!" Sam shouted again, shielding his face from the heat.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean was standing in the doorway, seeing his brother lying on the bed and followed his gaze up to the ceiling, unable to believe what he could see. Jessica's whole body was now covered in flames, the rest of the room had now been set alight too.

"No! No!" Sam protested as Dean tried to drag him out.

"We gotta get out!" Dean half picked him up, carrying out the room as Sam continued to yell.

"Jess! Jess! No!" The last thing he saw as he was forced out into the hallway was the outline of his girlfriends charred, black body.

Smoke was still billowing from the window after the fire service had arrived and managed to stop the fire from spreading further. Dean stood watching the scene for another moment before going back to his car where Sam stood, silently loading a shotgun with a round of shells. Dean looked at him with a concerned look on his face, Sam stared stonily back before nodding and tossing the shotgun into the boot. "We got work to do." He shut the boot with a satisfying click.


End file.
